One of my favorite things about living in Southern California is finally being close to my family. I have missed out on a lot by always being so far away, and it feels pretty good to be able to make up for lost time and get to see everyone often. This Sunday, my cousin's beautiful baby girl was having a dedication ceremony - I have been waiting anxiously ever since she was born in October to meet her, and of course jumped at the chance.
The dedication was in Ontario, about 40 minutes from where I live. I arrived there a little early, wandered around the church for a few minutes trying to find the entrance before running into my cousin (not the one with the new daughter, if you don't know, I have about 75 cousins.) I said hello to everyone, gave them hugs and answered questions about my new home and my new job...the usual greetings you'd expect to be exchanged between family who haven't seen each other in a while
There were, however, a couple faces I didn't recognize in the small crowd that had gathered for the event. One of whom was introduced to me by my aunt as her stepdaughter. She was leaning on crutches, so making conversation I casually asked "what happened to you?" Her answer completely blind-sighted me - nonchalantly, without skipping a beat, she replied: "cancer"
I immediately regretted asking the question and started kicking myself for not remembering those posts on Facebook I'd seen a while back about my cousin asking everyone to pray for her ill stepsister. I was horribly embarrassed having no idea what to say. "I'm sorry!" was the only thing I could think of that was even close to appropriate. "It's ok!" she said "I built a bridge and got over it." In that moment I truly admired someone I had known for approximately a minute and a half.
It got me thinking - we all have our crosses to bear, why can't we all be that upfront about it? What are we so afraid of? And why can't we all be that at peace with the situations life gets us into?
For me personally, my food allergies are my largest insecurity when it comes to meeting new people. I always assume that once someone learns what I can't eat, they will have no interest in learning anything else about me. Which is completely ridiculous. I'm not defined by those things - they are just a part of me. And in no way, shape or form do they shape who I am.
Her bold answer to my seemingly insignificant question really inspired me - I think there is a hugely important lesson that I, as well as anyone else, can take away from her fearless proclamation to a complete stranger. And that lesson is that not one of us on this Earth is without insecurities or issues or illness, and why not just own the things that we have to deal with? There really is no advantage in hiding those things from the world, other than a feeling of loneliness and self-pity. We only get one life, and to waste it feeling sorry for ourselves and being scared of what other people will think of us is no way to live it.
From now on, I'm going to try to be more upfront with people about the things that I'm scared to tell them. I'm going to embrace the things that give me pain, emotionally and physically, because we are given the struggles we are given for a reason: to become stronger and to help the people in our lives become stronger as a result. And even when those things really suck, wishing they were different won't make them better, it will only make you crazy.
Life isn't about being scared and timid. It's about telling the world who you are, letting it love you for you and knowing that you left the field having played your heart out.
Don't be afraid to live. We are all a little damaged, and that's what makes us so beautiful.
♥mb.
About Me
- Meghan Brittany
- just a 20-something trying to make sense out of life by over-thinking all the little things & baking when things turn blue
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Why yoga is the best thing you can do for your body.
With yoga, its a love-hate relationship.
Sometimes I could not be more excited to get my sweat on, and other times my lazy position on the couch watching tv with a spoon in a pint of ice cream seems like SUCH a better plan. Until of course I remember that I am shelling out $16 a class, in which case I (usually) overcome my desire to glue myself to a blanket, change into some Lulu and get on my game face.
Some classes are great - I'm focused and the poses come easily. Others, like tonight, everything seems impossible and I wish that I had the ability to teleport myself out of the humid, sticky room and into a freezer. Or glacial valley. Or the Arctic.
But the best part, whether or not my body is feeling it, is that I always finish. I always end up in final shivasina listening to all of my muscles relax and thank me for giving them a workout. There are many reasons that I believe yoga is the greatest single thing you can do for your health. It's low-impact, you can do the poses anywhere, if you're doing hot yoga you sweat out all the nastiness, etc. etc. etc. But there is one thing that sells me on yoga more than anything else: it's the best way to check in with your body and see if you are being kind to it.
During yoga, your body really lets you know how it is feeling. If you spent the whole weekend drinking cocktails by the pool and eating chili fries, you are going to feel sick. If you chug a milkshake three hours prior to class, you feel sluggish. If you don't sleep enough, you feel exhausted (more than usual!) But, if you have been drinking enough water, eat well and get enough rest, your body is going to feel awesome. Anytime I go into a class well-prepared, I come away feeling like I have really been treating myself right. And that is a great, great feeling.
Not only is yoga great for your muscles, your immune system and your health in general, it also encourages a healthy lifestyle. It makes you choose apples over cookies and water over soda and 8 hours of sleep over that television show you always watch at 11 PM. Yes, it is expensive - but just change the way you look at that price. Instead of looking at it as a debit to your bank account, see it as an investment in your future. In your health. In your life.
Because, even though we are all young (or young at heart), this life is precious. It won't last forever. And you have to make an investment in yourself now if you want to live happily and healthfully until you're old, gray and fabulous.
♥mb.
Sometimes I could not be more excited to get my sweat on, and other times my lazy position on the couch watching tv with a spoon in a pint of ice cream seems like SUCH a better plan. Until of course I remember that I am shelling out $16 a class, in which case I (usually) overcome my desire to glue myself to a blanket, change into some Lulu and get on my game face.
Some classes are great - I'm focused and the poses come easily. Others, like tonight, everything seems impossible and I wish that I had the ability to teleport myself out of the humid, sticky room and into a freezer. Or glacial valley. Or the Arctic.
But the best part, whether or not my body is feeling it, is that I always finish. I always end up in final shivasina listening to all of my muscles relax and thank me for giving them a workout. There are many reasons that I believe yoga is the greatest single thing you can do for your health. It's low-impact, you can do the poses anywhere, if you're doing hot yoga you sweat out all the nastiness, etc. etc. etc. But there is one thing that sells me on yoga more than anything else: it's the best way to check in with your body and see if you are being kind to it.
During yoga, your body really lets you know how it is feeling. If you spent the whole weekend drinking cocktails by the pool and eating chili fries, you are going to feel sick. If you chug a milkshake three hours prior to class, you feel sluggish. If you don't sleep enough, you feel exhausted (more than usual!) But, if you have been drinking enough water, eat well and get enough rest, your body is going to feel awesome. Anytime I go into a class well-prepared, I come away feeling like I have really been treating myself right. And that is a great, great feeling.
Not only is yoga great for your muscles, your immune system and your health in general, it also encourages a healthy lifestyle. It makes you choose apples over cookies and water over soda and 8 hours of sleep over that television show you always watch at 11 PM. Yes, it is expensive - but just change the way you look at that price. Instead of looking at it as a debit to your bank account, see it as an investment in your future. In your health. In your life.
Because, even though we are all young (or young at heart), this life is precious. It won't last forever. And you have to make an investment in yourself now if you want to live happily and healthfully until you're old, gray and fabulous.
♥mb.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Mugs are more than something to hold your coffee.
I cherish weekend mornings. I always have, but now that I have a 9-5, I cherish them even more. I like to wake up slowly (even if it's early), throw on sweats and a cardigan, create a delectable breakfast treat (today it was the pumpkin muffins from the Babycakes NYC cookbook) and most importantly, brew up a big pot of coffee.
I drink coffee everyday, but during the week it's out of a travel mug during my first hour of work when I'm trying desperately to wake up. I have realized in recent months that my addiction to caffeine (yes, espresso is my drug of choice) mostly manifests itself in dull headaches and burning eyeballs - so needless to say, that travel mug of coffee is essential. Coffee on the weekends is different though. Saturday and Sunday mornings give us the opportunity to actually savor this wonderful drink that nature has so generously given us. Instead of hurriedly pouring the entire pot into that durable plastic container with a spill-proof top, we can reach into our cabinets, select the perfect mug, and leisurely sip away at the steaming, vanilla creamer enhanced morning cocktail.
I have a slight obsession with mugs. They are the one thing I always buy, because I can ALWAYS justify the purchase price. (Unlike a t-shirt or a magnet or some other worthless souvenir object, I can pretty much guarantee I will use a mug.) I have mugs from all over the world - Paris, Turkey, Australia...most of these are the city mugs from Starbucks that I started collecting in Sydney when I was 21 and continued to gather from my travels studying in Europe. I also have gotten several as gifts - a couple of my favorites being a purple mug with paw prints that reads "Dog Mom" and another with a picture of a T-rex skeleton from the Natural History Museum in New York City. (Both from the same person, I think someone knows me too well...) As a result, I need an entire shelf for all of them:
I drink coffee everyday, but during the week it's out of a travel mug during my first hour of work when I'm trying desperately to wake up. I have realized in recent months that my addiction to caffeine (yes, espresso is my drug of choice) mostly manifests itself in dull headaches and burning eyeballs - so needless to say, that travel mug of coffee is essential. Coffee on the weekends is different though. Saturday and Sunday mornings give us the opportunity to actually savor this wonderful drink that nature has so generously given us. Instead of hurriedly pouring the entire pot into that durable plastic container with a spill-proof top, we can reach into our cabinets, select the perfect mug, and leisurely sip away at the steaming, vanilla creamer enhanced morning cocktail.
I have a slight obsession with mugs. They are the one thing I always buy, because I can ALWAYS justify the purchase price. (Unlike a t-shirt or a magnet or some other worthless souvenir object, I can pretty much guarantee I will use a mug.) I have mugs from all over the world - Paris, Turkey, Australia...most of these are the city mugs from Starbucks that I started collecting in Sydney when I was 21 and continued to gather from my travels studying in Europe. I also have gotten several as gifts - a couple of my favorites being a purple mug with paw prints that reads "Dog Mom" and another with a picture of a T-rex skeleton from the Natural History Museum in New York City. (Both from the same person, I think someone knows me too well...) As a result, I need an entire shelf for all of them:
I really probably need a whole cabinet to display them properly. Seeing that I am in marketing, aesthetics are very important to me. (Yes. Even my mug shelf would be well merchandised in my ideal world.) I get so much joy out of selecting a mug on a weekend morning or a weekday night when I want a cup of herbal tea, which most nights I indulge in. I enjoy the stories behind them, the joy that they bring me and most of all the comfort that inevitably comes when you fill them with a hot cup of Tazo Calm or Starbucks House Blend mixed with Hazelnut coconut creamer.
I once described coffee to a friend as "comforting - like drinking a hug", and I to this day fully believe in that. (I also would like to see this on a future Starbucks cup, but I'm not sure that the high-up executives would find it as endearing as I do.) It sums up the fact that warm beverages are so much more than a means to an end; much more than a pick-me-up when its freezing outside or as a method to get caffeine flowing through your veins.
It's comfort in a cup. Something to turn to when friends, family and puppies aren't available. A reminder to take things slower. To savor the moments in life that matter and forget, even if just temporarily, the ones that don't. So many of our greatest conversations and bonding times occur over hot drinks - you might not think it, but its true. You meet a girlfriend at Starbucks to catch up; after Christmas dinner your family sits around the table sipping hot chocolate laughing about old stories; you and your sister cry over a breakup while sipping peppermint tea and watching reruns of Friends
It's almost never just a cup of coffee. Just keep that in mind :)
♥mb.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Alone Time.
It's Friday night. In the world of 20-somethings, this usually involves the following:
a. a HUGE sigh of relief that the work week has finally come to a close
b. a couple friends
c. something alcoholic - pick your poison
For me, tonight only involves option A. I have the heavy task in front of me of cleaning my very messy apartment (and thus feeling the cleansing peace of mind that tidy surroundings inevitably brings) and simply enjoying some time by myself.
"Me-time" is a funny thing. It hinges on a very delicate balance between too much and not enough - if you tip too much to one side of the scale, insanity almost certainly follows. Spend too much time alone and you feel a painful yearning for company, and spend too much time with people and you find yourself melancholy over the fact that you haven't checked in with your emotional barometer in a while.
Moving should be defined in the dictionary as "chaotic; a verb that renders most subjects it effects to go partially crazy and feel abruptly uprooted with nary a moment to think a single thought that doesn't revolve around itself". There is always a box to be unpacked or a piece of furniture to procure - the list seems to grow tenfold everytime you check something off. Needless to say, the last month and a half of my life has been filled with various unrelated tasks that all lead to a common goal: finally feeling settled in a new place.
The first few weeks were especially busy. I went from an 8-hour workday to some moving-related line on my to-do list, leaving myself barely enough time to enjoy the basic human rights of sleep and food. It kind of felt like finals week of college, but one that went on for about a month. Now that the couch has been ordered and walls have been painted and my belongings have all found a place (in some form or another) I finally have a moment to inhale and let the reality of my new life sink in.
I have always been a social person, but a social person that needs enough time in a day to check in with myself for a minute or I start to go a little nuts. In the sorority, sometimes that me time consisted of just sitting in my closet to get away from everyone; not because I didn't enjoy their presence in my life (quite the contrary) but because I truly believe that a basic human need many of us ignore is the importance of spending time by ourselves.
It isn't anti-social. It isn't a sign of depression. It doesn't mean you don't love the people in your life. It just is what it is: necessary. It can be something as simple as reading for 10 minutes, writing in a journal, baking cookies or if you're feeling really ambitious running a couple miles. We all need to simply shut off our volume for a little while each day and turn our attention inwards, make sure that you are doing ok; taking a few moments each day that is completely centered on being selfish. I can't stress the importance of this enough.
That's why, after a month filled with emotions, changes and a busyness I haven't experienced in a long time, I couldn't be more excited to spend tonight cooking myself dinner, giving my new home a much needed spa day and reflecting on how happy I am to be in this moment, just hanging out with me.
Take my advice on this. Make the last few minutes of your day revolve around a cup of herbal tea and a back-issue of Vogue. Run for 15 minutes listening to your favorite new song. Meditate. Eat chocolate. Do something that makes you happy, relieves your stress and makes you feel ecstatic about living.
Just promise me you'll do it alone :)
♥mb.
a. a HUGE sigh of relief that the work week has finally come to a close
b. a couple friends
c. something alcoholic - pick your poison
For me, tonight only involves option A. I have the heavy task in front of me of cleaning my very messy apartment (and thus feeling the cleansing peace of mind that tidy surroundings inevitably brings) and simply enjoying some time by myself.
"Me-time" is a funny thing. It hinges on a very delicate balance between too much and not enough - if you tip too much to one side of the scale, insanity almost certainly follows. Spend too much time alone and you feel a painful yearning for company, and spend too much time with people and you find yourself melancholy over the fact that you haven't checked in with your emotional barometer in a while.
Moving should be defined in the dictionary as "chaotic; a verb that renders most subjects it effects to go partially crazy and feel abruptly uprooted with nary a moment to think a single thought that doesn't revolve around itself". There is always a box to be unpacked or a piece of furniture to procure - the list seems to grow tenfold everytime you check something off. Needless to say, the last month and a half of my life has been filled with various unrelated tasks that all lead to a common goal: finally feeling settled in a new place.
The first few weeks were especially busy. I went from an 8-hour workday to some moving-related line on my to-do list, leaving myself barely enough time to enjoy the basic human rights of sleep and food. It kind of felt like finals week of college, but one that went on for about a month. Now that the couch has been ordered and walls have been painted and my belongings have all found a place (in some form or another) I finally have a moment to inhale and let the reality of my new life sink in.
I have always been a social person, but a social person that needs enough time in a day to check in with myself for a minute or I start to go a little nuts. In the sorority, sometimes that me time consisted of just sitting in my closet to get away from everyone; not because I didn't enjoy their presence in my life (quite the contrary) but because I truly believe that a basic human need many of us ignore is the importance of spending time by ourselves.
It isn't anti-social. It isn't a sign of depression. It doesn't mean you don't love the people in your life. It just is what it is: necessary. It can be something as simple as reading for 10 minutes, writing in a journal, baking cookies or if you're feeling really ambitious running a couple miles. We all need to simply shut off our volume for a little while each day and turn our attention inwards, make sure that you are doing ok; taking a few moments each day that is completely centered on being selfish. I can't stress the importance of this enough.
That's why, after a month filled with emotions, changes and a busyness I haven't experienced in a long time, I couldn't be more excited to spend tonight cooking myself dinner, giving my new home a much needed spa day and reflecting on how happy I am to be in this moment, just hanging out with me.
Take my advice on this. Make the last few minutes of your day revolve around a cup of herbal tea and a back-issue of Vogue. Run for 15 minutes listening to your favorite new song. Meditate. Eat chocolate. Do something that makes you happy, relieves your stress and makes you feel ecstatic about living.
Just promise me you'll do it alone :)
♥mb.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
The Beauty of Imperfection.
So in a nutshell, my life has been chaotic lately. Not a bad chaotic. A great chaotic actually. (Minus the lack of my fuzzy little puppies in my life.) I am finally bridging the gap between semi-adult and real-life grown-up (well at least on paper.) I got a job that I love, I'm finally on my own (kind of, shout out to Dad), I live in a place I spent hours as a child pouting to my parents for ever moving away from and I'm finally something I haven't been in a very, very long time: happy.
Maybe happy is the wrong word, but satisfied is definitely the right one. I have a set schedule. My own space. A bi-weekly paycheck. Yes, I might still be using an old twin mattress I borrowed from my grandparents as a couch and there MIGHT be a little bit of green paint on my ceiling from a painting mistake (I am a terrible painter, don't ever hire me) but I finally feel like myself again. I am starting to pave my path in this world, find my place, all those cliche ways to say it.
As I sit here, surrounded by the mess that inevitably accompanies moving, I am hit by something very profound. I may not have all my decorations hung up and there might be more cardboard in my apartment than furniture but its so damn pretty. Not because it's perfect, not because it's clean, but because it's mine. Crazy the way that ownership shapes your thoughts.
My dinner tonight is a perfect example. I am 24 years old. I love to cook. I have all the utensils. But, because I didn't have the energy to make it to the grocery store after work, I had dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets, baby carrots, about a third a pint of coconut milk ice cream (my one true love) and some gf pretzels. And although it might not be the most gourmet or satisfying of meals, it was perfect.
Maybe tomorrow I will feel like re-stocking my fridge or moving my barstools from their temporary home in the middle of my living room back to the bar, but tonight I will admire the mess, lay on my pseudo-frat couch and soak up the moment, that someday, I will strangely miss.
♥mb.
Maybe happy is the wrong word, but satisfied is definitely the right one. I have a set schedule. My own space. A bi-weekly paycheck. Yes, I might still be using an old twin mattress I borrowed from my grandparents as a couch and there MIGHT be a little bit of green paint on my ceiling from a painting mistake (I am a terrible painter, don't ever hire me) but I finally feel like myself again. I am starting to pave my path in this world, find my place, all those cliche ways to say it.
As I sit here, surrounded by the mess that inevitably accompanies moving, I am hit by something very profound. I may not have all my decorations hung up and there might be more cardboard in my apartment than furniture but its so damn pretty. Not because it's perfect, not because it's clean, but because it's mine. Crazy the way that ownership shapes your thoughts.
My dinner tonight is a perfect example. I am 24 years old. I love to cook. I have all the utensils. But, because I didn't have the energy to make it to the grocery store after work, I had dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets, baby carrots, about a third a pint of coconut milk ice cream (my one true love) and some gf pretzels. And although it might not be the most gourmet or satisfying of meals, it was perfect.
Maybe tomorrow I will feel like re-stocking my fridge or moving my barstools from their temporary home in the middle of my living room back to the bar, but tonight I will admire the mess, lay on my pseudo-frat couch and soak up the moment, that someday, I will strangely miss.
♥mb.
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